


A is for Arthur

by WingcommanderArthurShappey



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Asexual Arthur, Demisexual Martin, M/M, Skipthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-21
Updated: 2014-06-21
Packaged: 2018-02-05 15:48:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1823860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WingcommanderArthurShappey/pseuds/WingcommanderArthurShappey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world full of kisses, Arthur's not the only one who's a bit different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A is for Arthur

Arthur remembers the first time Skip touched him through his trousers after kissing him for a really long time, delicately and gently and with his hands on Arthur's waist, in a way that made his heart race in his chest, so fast that Arthur could feel every heartbeat in his tingling fingertips. They _had_ kissed for quite a long time, and Arthur knew what gentle, tongue-y kisses did to people that weren't him, and that made him be not so surprised when Skip blushed and drew his hand back really quickly, as if he hoped that Arthur hadn't felt the touch (but he had), and broken words and parts of words tumbled from his lips, which was his way of saying _sorry_ and _I wish I hadn't hoped you like the kiss_.

I wish I hadn't hoped you like me.

He looked so ashamed, and when Arthur hugged him and told him that everything was okay and it had been the most brilliant kiss he'd ever had, he wondered why it was such a big deal ...but he couldn't ask, because actually, truthfully, he _knew_ why it hurt that even after Skip kissing him in such a perfect, tummy-rotating way, Arthur _wasn't_ hard, not one bit, and Skip had felt that when he'd touched him. It wasn't that Arthur didn't like the kiss. It wasn't that he didn't like Martin. (He loved him more than pineapple smoothies, actually.) It was just that... he didn't like kissing in all the ways _other_ people did. It was hard to explain. But Arthur tried, like he'd done a million times before, with people that weren't Skip.

He remembers the way he wrapped his arms around his flustered boyfriend and hugged him against his chest. I don't like... having things... done to me, he explained, but I like _doing_ them. I like... being hugged, and kissed, and cuddled, and I like touching others to make them feel good, but I don't like having my bits touched in a way that's supposed to make me feel good, because it _doesn't_ make me feel good, it just makes me feel like a rubbish boyfriend because the other person thinks I don't like them. Which is a silly thing to think, I like everyone, but I know why you'd think that when you touch my bits to make me feel good and it doesn't make me feel good. You can touch me everywhere, Skip, because you're my boyfriend, and I like being stroked, so I guess it'll feel nice if you pet me there, under my pants, I mean, but not in a way that's making me want to get hard. Well, I'd _want_ to, because it'd make you feel better, but that's not the way I am. It's _always_ been like that.

It doesn't mean I don't like you.

I love you more than polar bears.

It probably wasn't the best way to explain it, but it was the truth, and Skip seemed to get it, after a bit, because he went from nervous to confused to thoughtful, and then there was that look on his face that meant he understood, he finally understood everything. And then, Skip told him that he was a bit like Arthur, in the sense that they both weren't like most of the others. He liked doing things _and_ having things done to him, he said softly, with a smile on his face and his hand on Arthur's cheek, stroking and tickling him; but he only liked doing them with someone he loved, and that made Arthur's heart yodel with joy because it meant that Skip loved him.

...It's brilliant that way, actually.

Skip's used to it by now: that Arthur sighs happily when they kiss and he runs out of breath like Gertie runs out of fuel when she has to fly faster, but it doesn't make him hard the way it does Skip. He's used to Arthur's arms wrapped around him, Arthur's knee between his thighs, and they're both naked and Skip's panting and squirming and Arthur is watching him closely because he loves his Martin and he loves making him feel good, with his hands on him and his fingers in him and his lips counting the tiny orange freckles on the fragile lines of Martin's collar bones. (Collar bones, he thinks, is a funny and slightly odd word for something so gorgeous.)

Arthur wants to give Skip everything he needs, even if Arthur _doesn't_ need it, and he's so glad Skip's finally realised that. It was a bit difficult at first, because it seemed that Skip couldn't stop thinking that Arthur didn't _want_ to touch him, that he just did it because he didn't want to lose him to someone else, someone who liked being intimate the way Skip did. That wasn't true, and Arthur had to tell him over and over again that he really _liked_ touching Skip's naked body with his hands and his mouth, just as much as he liked making teas and coffees for him and watching telly with him and sitting on their little cuddly sofa with him, and he probably even liked doing intimate things a lot more than doing all the other stuff, because he was the only one who was allowed to see Martin like this, sweating and trembling and all naked. Skip didn't really believe him at first.

It's different now.

Skip _knows_ that he doesn't have to pretend he doesn't like it _all_ that much just to make Arthur feel better. He knows he doesn't have to hide from him when he's being aroused. He _knows_ Arthur likes it when he's being vocal, when Arthur can use his lips and his tongue to catch the sweet noises Martin makes. He knows Arthur would do everything to make him feel good, to see the tension leave his eyes and his forehead for a while, because Arthur loves seeing Skip breathe so freely when the weight of the world finally gets off his shoulders for a bit. Arthur can do all this and more with just a couple of touches. It's almost like he's magic.

Martin knows Arthur's not bored when he's lying next to him, when they're in bed together and Arthur's rubbing all his secret spots. That's just one of the things Arthur does for him – it's the way it's supposed to be. It's not different from Skip petting Arthur's hair and reading bedtime stories to him. It's just like that. Nice things you do because you love each other. It's Arthur's way of showing how much he cares.

Sometimes, when Skip comes home and Arthur can _see_ that he hasn't had the best day, he hugs him with Skip's back against the wall (because they both like that), and then he picks him up and carries him to bed. Skip knows what Arthur means when he puts his hands on Skip's waist or under his shirt and asks him if he can make him feel better. 

There's a word for this, for the way Arthur feels about touching and being touched, but he doesn't need a word for it when he can feel it deep in his bones. This is how it's always been with him, how it's always going to be. It's been like this long before he knew Skip, and it's still going to be like this when they've been married for thirty years and Skip won't take his hat off even when he's at home because he's lost most of his hair (and he's going to look so cute). The difference is that if someone asked him to explain it now, he'd know exactly what to say.

He doesn't love sex, but he loves Skip.   
He loves him more than stracciatella ice cream.


End file.
